


Feeling Better

by venomly



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Sick Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 09:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomly/pseuds/venomly
Summary: Aziraphale is feeling under the weather but, of course, Crowley is there to make sure he gets well.





	Feeling Better

It started with a headache. Nothing too harsh, but still a nuisance. Aziraphale had gotten headaches before but only when his Essence had been under strain after too many difficult miracles. This peculiar thing had seemingly came out of nowhere. He chalked it up to perhaps not having rested after him and Crowley had switched bodies and thought nothing more of it. Crowley had insisted he napped with him but he had never really had the interest and opted to stay awake during that surprisingly lonely week.

Crowley was currently sauntering in to the bookshop and closing the door behind him a little too loudly. Aziraphale tried not to flinch as pain shot through his head.

"Aziraphale! Long time, no see," Crowley said with a smirk.

"We saw each other yesterday, dear," Aziraphale said, distracted. Maybe the headache was worse than he thought. Or getting worse.

"Well, yeah, that was the premise of the joke," Crowley teased. "You ready to go? I do believe we have a table for two waiting for us at the Ritz."

Instead of his usual excitement, Aziraphale scrunched his nose. The thought of food was not sitting well with him today. There was really no point in going out if neither of them were going to eat and having to go outside where there were noisy people and cars was also not exactly ideal. 

"Would you mind terribly if I took a rain check? Something important has come up with the shop and I'd rather deal with it now than later." No need to worry the demon with a silly little headache.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Problems with those, er, what was it? Real estate mob guys? I can take care of it if you want."

"No, no, nothing like that. Just some business."

Aziraphale was a bit too focused on getting Crowley out of the shop so he can turn off all the lights and missed the disappointed frown.

"Alright, then," Crowley shrugged. "Call me when you're done, I guess."

"Yes, of course." Aziraphale smiled.

Crowley paused like he wanted to say something, or he was waiting for Aziraphale to say something more, but after neither happened he nodded and made his way out. Aziraphale listened for the distinct sound of the Bentley before locking the shop doors and turning out the lights, finding some relief in the darkness. He went up to the flat above the shop to make himself a cup of tea and wait it out. Sleep probably was a good idea but he had no clue when he would wake up and that'd require warning Crowley and he'd have to explain why and it all just really wasn't that big of a deal.

****

A day had passed. Maybe two? Perhaps a week had gone by. It was hard to tell. Aziraphale had moved to the back room of the shop at some point to read, or at least try to read. The words were swimming on the page and he found himself reading paragraphs multiple times while still not processing what was said. Everything felt strange and muffled. His body felt overheated but every time he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, the air felt far too cold to be comfortable. He ached all over. At some point the phone had rang, the noise unpleasantly making his head pound and wishing to not hear that sound for a very long time, he snapped his fingers and miracled the phone to disconnect.

Aziraphale was vaguely aware that all of this was very wrong but he was too uncomfortable and hazy to do anything about it. He couldn’t focus. The couch behind him was very tempting but every time he resolved to have a quick lie down, he would lose focus and find himself staring at the pages again. 

The doors to the shop opened and closed loudly, startling him, and he got up unsteadily to investigate.

"Aziraphale," Crowley called out, tone worried. Aziraphale didn't want to worry him. That was the entire point of staying home.

Aziraphale braced himself on the door frame of the back room.

"Crowley?" 

Crowley was relieved to see him, tension visibly draining.

"I thought something happened, I tried to call but you didn't-" Crowley took off his sunglasses. "Are you alright?"

"Hm? Ah, yes. Spiffing." Aziraphale thought about walking over to Crowley but the door frame felt so sturdy and nice. As chance had it, Crowley was coming toward him. 

Crowley looked at his face and his expression quickly turned concerned at seeing the flushed cheeks. He didn't hesitate to cup the angel's face in his hands. They felt so cool and smooth against Aziraphale's feverish face that he closed his eyes, instantly leaning into the touch. 

"Angel, you're burning up," Crowley said, alarmed.

Aziraphale hummed in response and held Crowley's hand in place. Crowley was saying something about not telling him but Aziraphale was too busy enjoying the general sound of his voice. He loved Crowley's voice. It was comforting and sounded like home. Crowley was home. The hands started moving away and Aziraphale made a noise in protest. He needed to touch. He took a step toward Crowley and the floor swayed beneath him and suddenly there were arms around him, keeping him steady.

"I've got you," Crowley murmured, as Aziraphale held onto him, burying his face in his neck. Crowley had stiffened a bit but relaxed almost immediately. His skin and his smell was so nice and Aziraphale didn't know why but he felt the overwhelming urge to cry. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

Crowley picked up Aziraphale bridal style with a grunt and started up the stairs. It was very chivalrous. Aziraphale's own knight in black armor, always coming to the rescue. He must have said his thoughts out loud because he could feel the vibration of Crowley huffing a laugh. Finally, Aziraphale was being set down on sheets that were suspiciously suddenly free from all dust and books. Crowley made a vague gesture and Aziraphale's clothes were replaced with a tartan pyjama set.

"How the hell did an angel catch a fever? I didn't even know you could get sick," Crowley said, sitting next to him on the bed.

Did he have a fever? That should've been obvious. He didn't know angels could get sick either.

"I think my new corporation is... adjusting," Aziraphale said. He wanted to ask Crowley to hold him again.

"You stupid angel," Crowley admonished. "You're over here about to discorporate and don't think to answer the bloody phone. Have you been like this since I left?"

Though his words had an edge of angry panic, he began gently running his hand over Aziraphale's forehead and into his hair, over and over again. It felt so nice and Aziraphale was so exhausted, he closed his eyes instead of answering. Sleep was sounding very good at the moment. The hand stopped and the bed shifted as Crowley stood up. Aziraphale quickly reached out, grabbing onto Crowley's jacket.

"Please don't leave me, my dear," Aziraphale said, not worrying about sounding desperate.

Crowley's face softened. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Placated, Aziraphale closed his eyes again. It took no time for his breathing to begin evening out. Before he finally drifted off, he felt the brush of lips against his cheek.

*****

Aziraphale woke up with a whine. He hurt everywhere. There was a melted ice pack on the nightstand next to him and he was trying to remember what had happened before he fell asleep and felt the ghost of Crowley's arms around him when he had been carried up the stairs. Crowley. Crowley had been here. Crowley had promised to stay. Aziraphale looked around the room and felt his heart sink when Crowley was not in sight. The urge to cry came over him again but this time, the tears actually did begin to well up in his eyes and spill over. He felt awful all over and all he wanted was Crowley. He let out a stifled sob and something clattered in his kitchen.

In the blink of an eye, Crowley was kneeling by his side, looking distressed.

"Aziraphale? What happened? What's wrong?" He looked around the angel anxiously, like the sickness had physically manifested and was now attacking.

"I thought you left," Aziraphale choked out.

"I'm right here," Crowley said, wiping away some of the tears. 

Aziraphale sniffled. "Crowley, I feel absolutely awful all over."

Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, keeping his hand on his cheek. "You're still very warm. I made some soup while you were sleeping. Do you think you can eat some of it?"

"I believe so," Aziraphale said, shifting so he could sit up.

Crowley didn't waste any time in bringing him a bout. It was chicken noodle soup, various veggies added. Aziraphale took it, gratefully, and made an approving noise when he took the first bite. Crowley had a smug look of pride.

"Do you like it?" Crowley asked, already knowing the answer.

Aziraphale nodded, continuing to eat. The warm soup felt soothing running down his throat. 

After a while, an empty bowl was being taken out of Aziraphale's hands and being replaced by a glass of water and a couple of pills. He looked at Crowley, questioning.

"They work for humans," Crowley said with a shrug. "Your corporation is somewhat human. Doesn't hurt to try."

Under Crowley's gaze, Aziraphale dutifully took the medicine. Satisfied, Crowley took all of the empty dishes back into the kitchen. Aziraphale tried to get into a comfortable position on the bed. He felt unreasonably cold even though he seemed to be sweating. When Crowley came back, his heart hurt seeing Aziraphale tucked in under the covers, trembling slightly.

"Can I get you anything, angel?"

"Lay with me?" Aziraphale asked, quietly. He was miserable and he needed him.

"Yeah," Crowley said, trying not to feel like he was overstepping boundaries. "Yeah, 'course."

He snapped his fingers, changing into his own pyjamas. Climbing into bed, he positioned himself beside Aziraphale, not sure how the angel wanted him. 

"What, uh- how do you want to do this?" Crowley asked, uncertainly.

"Can you hold me?" Aziraphale responded. He knew he could never ask for something like that so straight-forward if he was thinking clearly. Of course, he didn't care at the moment. 

Crowley spooned him behind, pressing their bodies together and circling his arm around Aziraphale. The pressure was exactly what Aziraphale had needed and the heat coming off of Crowley was warming him in a way that was comfortable and not overwhelming. Aziraphale held on to Crowley's arm. His eyelids were feeling heavy again and it wasn't long before he was falling back to sleep, lulled by Crowley's slow breathing and whispered comforts.

*****

When Aziraphale woke up the second time, he kept his eyes closed, wishing to stay a bit longer in the dark, warm place he found himself content to float in. Whatever he was laying on shifted a little bit and Aziraphale slowly opened his eyes, disoriented. He found himself laying on Crowley's chest, his entire upped half on top of the demon. A hand was in his hair, running through the blonde fluff in circles that felt so nice, Aziraphale was sure he could fall asleep again. He pretended to continue to be asleep, keeping his breath slow and even just to enjoy the moment. Him and Crowley had never really had this much physical contact and he wanted to soak it in. Aziraphale felt entirely better, which was no surprise considering how fast he usually healed from things, and that meant the pretense for continuing this would be entirely gone. Though, now, it would be okay considering their current situation on Their Side. If Crowley was willing.

With that in mind, Aziraphale moved his head to look at Crowley who was already looking down at him with such a soft expression, face closer than expected, and it made Aziraphale's heart do something funny. He looked beautiful with his hair slightly ruffled and his golden eyes looking so unguarded. He always looked so beautiful.

"How are you feeling?" Crowley asked, feeling Aziraphale's forehead with his freehand. The hand in his hair stopped moving.

"Much better," Aziraphale said. "Thank you for everything. I'm very sorry about that, I really thought I had it under control."

Crowley shook his head. "You don't have to apologize for getting sick."

"Still. Thank you."

"You know I'd do anything for you, angel," Crowley said, looking a little nervous about how genuine it came out.

He was looking at Aziraphale like he was waiting for him to make the next move. Gathering up his courage, Aziraphale put his head back down on Crowley's chest and held him a little tighter. Crowley stayed still, surprised, and Aziraphale was wondering if he had made the demon uncomfortable but before he could completely second guess himself, the hand in his hair started up again, and Aziraphale felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've got writer's block for my other fic but I wanted to put something out there so here this is! Written between involuntary naps because I'm trying to get over my own fever. Any mistakes will be fixed when I'm more lucid.


End file.
